


May As Well

by deirdre_aithne



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, M/M, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-19
Updated: 2010-12-19
Packaged: 2017-11-07 03:52:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/426639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deirdre_aithne/pseuds/deirdre_aithne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Feeling that his life is over, Draco decides he may have been better off never living it at all. When he attempts to remove himself from history altogether, however, something goes awry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	May As Well

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Time fest over at bottom_draco on LJ. Love to lorcalon for the beta work!!

Draco lifted his head from the cobblestones, wincing at the twinge of pain it caused. It took him a moment, rubbing at the back of his neck in an attempt to work out the kink that had developed in the muscles, to realize that he shouldn't even be conscious now. As the slight haze in his mind cleared, he clearly remembered being bent over the copper cauldron in the basement lab of the Manor, brewing the _Delio ex Vicis_ potion less than an hour before. Highly illegal and nearly impossible to obtain the instructions for, the potion should have wiped him from history entirely.

After the death of both his parents during the Final Battle- killed by their own family, his aunt Bellatrix, for betraying the 'cause'- he had no one left who cared for him. Following the war, the Ministry had seized all of the Malfoy family assets, including their bank vaults, and their properties and holdings throughout Britain. The only reprieve they had allowed him was a week to find new living accommodations before they planned to toss his arse out onto the street. With his entire world falling apart around him, Draco had decided it would be better to have never been than to try and live in the world that so clearly didn't want him.

Luck had been on his side when he searched the family library in hopes of finding a way to erase his life completely. Nestled in an ancient volume on one of the upper shelves, he had managed to find one of the few copies in existence of the _Deleo ex Vicis_ potion; capable of erasing all traces of the drinker from history. He thought he had followed the instructions perfectly, but as he looked around and realized that he was still very much alive, Draco felt his shoulders slump in defeat. Yet another thing he had failed to accomplish properly.

Setting his jaw stubbornly, he pulled himself to his feet, waiting until they were steady beneath him to walk out into the street. The buildings around him were vaguely familiar, although they did not look quite as he remembered them. Off in the distance, he could see the tell-tale silhouette of Hogwarts, which confirmed he was in Hogsmeade. From the street to his left, he could hear the loud sounds of celebration from the Three Broomsticks and immediately moved in the opposite direction. If he was already here, he may as well find himself a drink; and he'd be damned if he'd get it from there, in the midst of whatever festivities were being hosted.

Not much farther along the road, Draco noticed the sign for the Hog's Head pub and relaxed somewhat. It was much less popular with those in search of socialization rather than a good, stiff drink, and perfectly suited to his mood. The old wizard behind the bar looked younger than he remembered, though otherwise much the same.

“What'll it be?” the man asked, glancing over at Draco as he claimed one of the empty bar stools.

“Firewhisky,” he responded readily, looking forward to the quick trip to oblivion promised by a few tumblers of something so strong. Aberforth had only just set the glass in front of him when Draco took it up and drained it in one swig. It burned his throat pleasantly, and he withdrew a handful of sickles from his pocket and placed them on the bar; payment for his first and a second drink.

He was just finishing the second tumbler when another man sat heavily on the stool beside him, clutching a half-finished bottle of Butterbeer in his hands. “Can I help you?” Draco muttered, not bothering to look up from the slowly melting ice in his glass.

“You looked like you could do for some company as much as I can,” the man answered casually, taking a long drink from his bottle. “If you'd rather be alone, I can bugger off.”

Draco was about to tell him that yes, he would rather drink himself silly in peace when he found himself entirely tongue-tied by the wizard beside him. He couldn't be any older than Draco himself was, and greatly resembled Potter in nearly every detail except one. His eyes, a rather attractive shade of hazel, watched him for a response beneath a wild fringe of black hair.

“I...No, you can stay,” he finally said, shaking his head to bring his expression back under control. Holding out one hand towards him, Draco smiled confidently at the other wizard; given the route his life was taking, it couldn't hurt to seize any opportunity for, at the very least, a one-nighter with such a shaggable bloke. “I'm Draco.”

“James,” responded the other man, accepting the offered hand and shaking it with a matching smile. After tipping back the last of his Butterbeer, James caught Aberforth's attention behind the bar and beckoned him closer. “Can we get a round of... What is it you were drinking?” he asked, glancing over at Draco.

“Firewhisky.”

James's eyebrows rose in a look of surprise, but he turned towards the aged wizard and ordered the round before twisting on his stool to look at Draco. Propping one elbow on the bar, he rested his head in his hand and gave him a quick once-over before asking, “What brings you here, rather than the Broomsticks or somewhere else a bit more social?”

“I'm not much of a man for social,” Draco offered, accepting the fresh drink placed in front of him with a nod to the aged pub owner. James let out a quick bark of a laugh, taking up his own glass with a small nod of understanding.

“Oi, I know what you mean.” Tilting his drink back, James drained the Firewhisky quickly before setting it back on the bar with a thud. “Although you, Draco, are good company.” He flashed a smile at his blond companion, earning himself a smirk back in response.

“I believe I must return the sentiment,” Draco said, adjusting his posture to lean a fraction closer to James. Neither of them seemed bothered when their hands brushed together as Draco reached for his glass again.

* * * * *

“It gets better.” James's words were beginning to slur slightly as he and Draco had gotten a bit deeper into their cups over the course of the past hour. “She was hanging all over another witch at the Broomsticks. 'S why I came here to drink instead.”

Draco couldn't resist a laugh, although he gave James a sympathetic pat on the arm. “So it's all well and fine if she wants to do it, but the moment she finds you fancy blokes as well, she gets her knickers in a twist?” Shaking his head, he tipped back the last of his latest drink, already having forgotten the count by now. “Bloody hypocritical cow.”

James nodded in agreement, pushing away his already empty glass and running his fingers through his short, dark hair. “Of course, I likely could have chosen a better way to tell her about it. Even my own mates were rather caught off guard. Sirius wouldn't even look at me for more than a month.” Chuckling quietly at the memory, James shrugged. “It had to have been quite a shock for him, finding his best mate was buggering his baby brother. Still, I suppose I'm better off without her in the end. Although, it was a bit of a blow to my pride, losing her that way.” Pushing himself off of his bar stool, James stretched a bit, letting out a groan as his muscles protested after their extended time in one position.

Watching, Draco's eyes roamed over the man's chest, taking in the way his muscles shifted beneath the fabric of his shirt as he stretched. He dared a glance lower while James was distracted, catching a brief view of the thin trail of dark hairs that disappeared beneath the waistband of his trousers when his shirt rode up a few inches. “Bugger, it's late,” James muttered, finally straightening and checking the small clock behind the bar.

“I suppose you've got to be getting along, then?” Draco asked, unable to keep the hint of disappointment from his voice. He focused back on the empty glass on the bar in front of him, not quite willing to meet James's eyes, if he was just going to leave now.

Instead, James placed a hand on Draco's shoulder and flashed another rather charming smile when he looked up. “You could always come with me.” When Draco raised a questioning eyebrow, he leaned closer to the blond's ear and added, “I know a way to sneak you into Hogwarts with me. If you're interested, of course.” Before he had any time to doubt the answer, Draco was tossing another handful of Sickles onto the bar and standing as well.

“Take these 'fore you leave,” Aberforth interrupted, pulling two vials of Sober-Up potion from beneath the bar and pushing them forward. “I've no mind to deal with that McGonagall woman for letting you go back to Hogwarts as rat-arsed as you are.” Both accepted the offered potions, drinking them quickly before placing the empty vials back onto the bar.

“Now then,” Draco began, straightening his clothes slightly and nodding at James with the hint of a smile hovering at the edges of his mouth, “lead the way.”

Their conversation lulled slightly as they walked through the village, although the silence was not uncomfortable. When they passed the Three Broomsticks, the din of its celebrating patrons within- the Hogwarts graduating class, as Draco had been informed- could still be heard. The sound followed them along the street for a fair distance, before finally fading entirely into the background. It wasn't until they were half way along the path towards the Shrieking Shack that Draco realized that was where James was leading him.

“I thought you said we were going back to the castle?”

James smiled confidently and took hold of Draco's arm, tugging him along beside him. “I said I was going to sneak you in, Draco, not that I was going to walk you up to the gates.”

* * * * *

James made quick work of accessing the secret passage within the Shack. In truth, Draco was a little envious that he had discovered such a thing, considering all the extra trips he could have taken out of the castle over the years himself, had he been aware of it. Before they emerged from the underground tunnel, James withdrew a shrunken cloak from the pocket of his trousers. After enlarging it, he threw it over Draco's head, who then examined the fabric in front of his face before realizing its shimmering quality identified it as an Invisibility Cloak.

“Stay silent,” James muttered, waving Draco after him as he climbed through a hole in the earth above them. He recognized the Whomping Willow as he scrambled out from the gap between its roots, and immediately moved as far away from it as was possible, fearing it would begin to swing. The two of them had cleared its range before the tree began to twitch again, and Draco immediately tugged the Cloak from around his head to look at James in surprise.

“Why didn't it go for us?”

“There's a knot on the trunk,” James answered, grasping the fabric of the cloak and yanking it back over Draco's head before anyone could spot them. “When you press it, the tree stops moving for a bit. Now come on. If we hurry, we can still get into my dormitory before anyone else gets back to the Tower.”

James began moving towards the main doors of the castle with Draco trailing a few steps behind. It hadn't been locked yet, with most of the former seventh years still out in the village to celebrate their graduation. While they had been drinking, James had told him that the students were due to board the train in the morning, which meant it was unlikely that any of the staff would be patrolling the corridors tonight.

He had been correct, leaving the hallways free of any teachers to notice the extra pair of echoing footsteps as they made their way through the school. The trip up towards Gryffindor Tower was a fast one, but before they could reach the Fat Lady's Portrait, Draco stopped James with a sharp tug on his sleeve.

“What?” James asked in confusion.

Draco slipped the Cloak back down from his head so that James could actually see him again. “I know a better place to go. The Room of Requirement,” he added when the other man gave him a questioning look. The answer only seemed to confuse the dark-haired wizard more, because his brow furrowed as he met Draco's grey eyes. Nearly laughing over the fact that James had found a hidden route into the village, but hadn't found the Room, Draco grabbed his arm and tugged him beneath the Cloak. In case anyone else happened to be about along the way, they wouldn't be able to follow after them this way.

* * * * *

He explained to James how to set the Room, allowing him to be the one to open the door. It wasn't surprising, then, when it opened into a room occupied by a large, maroon couch with gold trimming. A stone fireplace covered the wall in front of it, with a pleasant fire burning away at the logs inside. The room was otherwise empty of furniture or decoration, providing them a somewhat intimate environment.

“How very _Gryffindor_ ,” Draco drawled, leading the way through the door and gratefully snatching up the only hint of green in the room; a blanket that had materialized on the back of the couch as he entered. Taking a seat at one end of the couch, he smirked when James sat closer than was necessary beside him.

“Was that a complaint, Draco?” the other man asked, leaning closer to the blond to brush his lips against his pale throat.

“Merely an observation,” he replied, struggling to keep his voice steady as James's mouth moved downwards towards his collarbone. It was a rough caress, mixed with a brush of tongue and nip of teeth, that sent a chill along Draco's spine. Closing his eyes as he gives in to the sensations, Draco allowed himself to be pushed back against the couch beneath them. At least for tonight, his life seemed to be worth living, and he felt he may as well enjoy it while he had the opportunity.


End file.
